


if you get lost in the light (I can see in the dark)

by nothingbutniall



Series: how many nights does it take to count the stars? [2]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Camping, F/M, First trip together, Fluff, Stargazing, WTFock Season 2, babies in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutniall/pseuds/nothingbutniall
Summary: Zoë and Senne go on their first trip together to look at the stars. In the end, they mostly end up looking at each other.(Follow-up to 'find me in the region of the summer stars' but can be read on its own.)





	if you get lost in the light (I can see in the dark)

**Author's Note:**

> It's official: these two are too cute.  
> I didn't plan for this to be as long as it is, but I'm not complaining and I don't think you will either ;)
> 
> (Title comes from Niall Horan's Since We're Alone.)

“You didn’t tell me you were moving out,” Milan says with his eyebrows raised, leaning against the door frame.

With a sigh, Zoë gives up on trying to close her suitcase and instead flops down onto the bed. “Shut up.”

Senne combs her hair back with his fingers, throwing Milan a look. “I told her she has overpacked, but you know her – she doesn’t listen to me.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Zoë says again.

“Do you even own that many clothes?” Milan moves closer to the bed, flipping the lid of the suitcase back and revealing a small library of books, clothes stuffed in all the little nooks and corners between them.

Zoë watches him sliding his finger over the covers, reading the titles. “If I don’t read them now, I never will.”

“Do you think you have some room left for a present?” He holds out a small, cube-shaped package, wrapped in rainbow paper.

She eyes the item suspiciously. “Present?”

“Yep. But you can’t open it until tonight.”

“Why?” Senne asks, taking the gift and weighing it. “Is it a bomb?”

“Yes, Senne, you caught me.” Milan splays himself dramatically across the bed, taking Senne’s hands in his. “I want to kill Zoë so I can finally be with you, like we’re both so _desperately_ longing for.”

At this point, the blatant flirting between Milan and Senne doesn’t even phase Zoë anymore. Both boys have made it their mission to make as many inappropriate jokes and sexual insinuations as possible. She’s not sure what the goal is. In the beginning, it was clear they did it to embarrass Zoë, but even though she doesn’t even bat an eye anymore, they haven’t stopped.

Zoë pushes Milan off the bed. “Go annoy your own boyfriend, will you?”

He grabs her around the waist and pulls her down with him, her knee landing just centimetres away from his crotch.

“Dumbass,” she laughs, ruffling his curls before standing up and offering him her hand.

He takes it and straightens his shirt before reaching in his back pocket.

“I’ve got something else for you.”

“Are you sure you’re Dutch? You’re suspiciously generous.”

“Quiet, you.” He hands her a bright pink bag of candy. “You can’t go on a road trip to the Netherlands and not have these.”

Upon further inspection, the candy turns out to be liquorice and Zoë sticks her tongue out in mild disgust. “This is my least favourite Dutch treat. You should’ve got me more treacle waffles.”

“I’ll take them!” Senne offers immediately, making grabby hands for the bag.

Milan sighs. “See, this is why I love Senne more.”

***

As Senne manoeuvres the car through Antwerp’s traffic jams and construction works, Zoë snaps a picture of her view in the side view mirror and adds it to her Instagram story. Next to the Dutch flag emoji, she writes “off to Holland!” and it takes approximately two nanoseconds for Milan to reply to her story:

😡🤬😤🤯🖕

_THE NETHERLANDS_

She laughs and sends back a kissy face before storing her phone in her bag.

It’s about a two-hour drive to Arnhem, where they will be camping, but looking at the traffic doesn’t give her much hope for a smooth drive.

It does allow Senne to enjoy his career as car DJ to the fullest. When Zoë found out he’d made a playlist of over two hundred songs, she’d laughed at him, but now she’s glad they’ve got such a broad selection to choose from.

There’s the classics – a few sappy Ed Sheeran songs, some nineties hits, a selection of boybands –, topped up with some indie artists, movie soundtracks and corny Flemish songs. They pressed shuffle and made a deal not to skip any of the songs.

It’s one big mess of genres and artists and emotions, but it’s also very, very fun. Somehow, _Waterloo_ blends seamlessly into _Ta Fête_ which clashes horribly with _Zoutelande_ but they sing their hearts out like they’re trying to win The Voice and Zoë’s stomach hurts from laughing and her cheeks feel cramped.

“You got that liquorice somewhere, babe?”

Usually, it’s Senne that is most affected by pet names (something Zoë uses to her full advantage), but something about the way he calls her babe so easily makes the butterflies in her stomach do a happy dance, and she ducks her head so her hair hides the blush on her cheeks.

He’s given her a lot of different nicknames throughout the months, _baby_ and _sweetheart_ and _love_ and _Zobee_ and _Zo_ , but nothing beats a simple _babe_ mindlessly slipping into a conversation.

“Open up,” she instructs, holding the car-shaped gummy in front of his mouth. He takes it with a soft bite to her fingers and she wipes them on the sleeve of his shirt. “Gross.”

Senne shrugs, a smile playing around his eyes. “We’ve swapped spit before.”

She groans. “Seriously, Senne?”

She wants to add more, tell him he can’t talk about spit-swapping when he knows she’s a visual thinker, but out of the blue, _Casanova_ starts playing and Senne turns the volume up a notch.

“Come on, let me hear you sing,” he grins.

A disbelieving smile erupts on Zoë face. “You’re such a cheater.”

“It’s on shuffle! How could I cheat?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you found a way.”

He squeezes her knee. “It’s fate.”

“Sure.”

As the song plays, she studies his face. She can’t quite put her finger on it, but something about the way he keeps his eyes strictly on the road the entire time makes her think it may not have been just fate at work.

And then the penny drops.

“Babe?” she asks softly, sweetly.

“Hm?”

“How many times did you put this song in the playlist?”

He bites his lip and glimpses at her before admitting: “A few times.”

“ _Fate_ ,” she mocks him, but she can’t hide the fondness in her tone. “Such a cheater.”

***

“Are you sure this is a pop-up tent?”

“Zoë.” There’s a warning tone to Senne’s voice. After fruitlessly trying to get the tent up for the past ten minutes, his patience is running low and Zoë can tell he’s about to snap.

She’s seen him angry before, knows he’s got a bit of a short fuse when things don’t go his way, but she also knows his frustration is rarely directed at her. Rather, he gets annoyed with himself and outs it by bickering with her, because it’s easier to fight with her than battle his own thoughts.

Zoë places a hand low on his back and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “What’s the issue?”

His shoulders sag, and he leans into the touch, letting out a sigh. “This pole isn’t staying up properly and that’s why the whole tent is wonky.”

“Okay. Can we sleep in it?”

He shrugs, turning to face her. “I guess, yeah.” His arms wrap around her shoulder and he rests his chin on top of her head. She trails her hand up and down his spine, willing him to relax.

“Let’s leave it for now,” she suggests, placing a kiss on his collar bone. “Let’s go for a walk, have dinner, and then come back to see if we can fix it. If worse comes to worst, we’ll just sleep in a wonky tent.”

He gives in easily. “Fine.”

“I love you,” she reminds him, because sometimes he needs reminding, needs to be reassured that she likes him, _all of him_ , even the lesser sides.

“I love you,” he responds, because they never leave a love declaration unrequited.

They share a kiss, sweet and loving, no rush to let it lead to anything more. Maybe later, when they’re alone in the tent, or maybe not until they’re back home in the comfort of their own bed. Either way is fine.

***

Before they got here, Zoë had no idea what to expect of Arnhem. Neither she nor Senne had ever been on a proper trip to the Netherlands, except for that one time Zoë and her mum went to Amsterdam for a weekend, but when googling _best places to look at stars_ , the Netherlands had been recommended several times. Luckily, Milan is nothing if not a great advocate for his beloved home country, so he’d recommended them some places. They ended up choosing Arnhem, partially because it wasn’t too far, and partially because it was the place Milan had spent most of his childhood (and Zoë said she “wanted to see where it all went wrong”).

Their campsite is located near a national parc which Zoë falls in love with from the first second. She is a city child at heart, but over the years, she has learned to appreciate the simplicity and serenity of nature. They are treated to an unbelievable concert by the birds inhabiting the trees, none of which they can identify, and when they spot paw prints, all they know is that it’s not a cat.

The grandeur of the landscape makes Zoë feel small and insignificant in the best way possible and judging by the way Senne’s gone quiet beside her, he feels it, too.

She squeezes his hand, which earns her a soft smile, and once more, her heart feels like it might burst out of her ribcage. There is something comforting in the language they’ve created together, in not having to speak to communicate. There are soft touches and shy smiles and stolen glances and sweet kisses, and they all come down to one thing: _I love you. You make me happy._

***

After sunset, they spread out a blanket on the far side of the campsite, away from the quiet chatter from the other guests and the lights shining from tents and caravans. There are a couple of clouds in the sky, but overall, the night sky is littered with stars. It’s new moon, which adds an extra layer of darkness, and Zoë won’t admit it but she’s very glad she’s not here on her own.

They’re not allowed to make an actual fire, the drought caused by the summer heat posing too big of a risk, but they’ve got a few candles and although it’s nowhere near practical, they still manage to roast marshmallows above the flames. It’s a sticky situation and more than one marshmallow catches fire, so the ants will have a feast tomorrow.

Somehow, despite the large pizzas they had for dinner, they manage to eat the entire bag and they lie down in some sort of food coma, Senne’s head on Zoë’s stomach. She rakes her fingers through his windswept hair, gently working out the knots. It’s a slow process, meditative almost, and if Senne were a cat, he’d probably be purring.

“I think I’m pregnant,” he sighs, turning his head slightly so she can scratch behind his ears. Maybe he was a cat in a past life.

“Hm?” Zoë trails her fingers down from his ear along his jawline, up to his lips where she traces their shape.

He presses a kiss to the tops of her fingers. “Yeah. A marshmallow baby. Like a Michelin Man.”

She smiles. “Cute.”

“Obviously, when I’m the dad.” He briefly opens one eye to gauge her reaction. “Not sure who the father is. Maybe Milan.”

“Is that what you two get up to in the kitchen all the time? Here I was, thinking you were just being good boyfriends by making Lukas and me breakfast.”

“Just a façade. We’ll have to get married now, can’t have this baby being born out of wedlock.”

Shaking her head, she pulls his hair a little. “Thought you said you wanted to marry me.”

He puckers his lips, and she shifts to lean in for a kiss. “Thought you didn’t want to,” he says softly when she pulls back.

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

The grin that appears on his face is nothing but smug. “You’re that in love with me, huh?”

She shuts him up with another kiss. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she whispers against his lips, but she can’t help but return his smile.

They make out for a while, licking into each other’s mouths to taste the remains of marshmallow on their tongues, mapping each other out like they’ve done time and time again.

“You make me see stars,” Senne mumbles and Zoë has to pull back because she’s laughing too much.

“You really are a walking, talking cliché, aren’t you?” She shuffles down until they’re mirroring each other’s position, looking up at the sky.

“I’m a romantic at heart, but you refuse to see it,” he grumbles, lacing their fingers together.

Normally, she’d tease him a bit more, because a disgruntled Senne is one of her favourite Senne’s, but the butterflies in her stomach have started doing somersaults and she’s overcome with affection. “Love you.”

“Whatever,” he huffs, but the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile and she gets a kiss as he whispers _love you_ against her lips.

“We’re doing very little star-gazing for a trip that was supposed to be all about stars.”

“I literally just said you make me see stars.”

She rests her face on his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

***

Once they get over the giddiness of being on their first trip together and not having to worry about roommates walking in unannounced, they do end up watching the stars. Like earlier that day with the animals, their astronomical knowledge is severely lacking. They do manage to find the Great Bear and the Little Bear, and Senne claims he saw a shooting star but Zoë tells him shooting stars don’t go up so it was definitely a plane.

They make up their own constellations, _Tesla_ and _Pancake_ and _Senne’s Brain_ (one very tiny, faded star), and pretend they’re not scared of the bats that are flying above their heads, and cuddle closer as the night gets colder until they are tangled together head to toe, at which point they decide they should head back to the tent before they catch pneumonia.

***

Zoë is nearly asleep when Senne softly taps his finger against her head. “Hey, what did Milan actually give you?”

It takes her a second to register what he said, and she grumbles against his chest as she tries to find her voice. “Don’t know, forget to open it.” She yawns and sits up, feeling around until she finds her suitcase and then the small package.

Senne flicks on the flashlight on his phone and Zoë blinks against the brightness. Hooking her finger under the tape, she gets the wrapping paper of within seconds. Her sleep-fogged brain struggles to identify the object, but when it clicks, she throws the box in the corner and drops back down on the mattress, releasing a groan into her pillow.

“What?” Senne laughs, chest rumbling underneath where her arm is resting.

“It’s a box of condoms.”

It’s quiet for a second. “I mean… That’s thoughtful of him, right?” The giggle in Senne’s voice is undeniable and she slaps his arm with as much power as her muscles allow in this half-awake state.

“I hate both of you.”

He pulls her closer and places a kiss on her forehead. “The feeling’s mutual,” he assures her.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make me happy, and since it's my birthday today, you're required by law to leave a nice comment 😉  
> You can also find me on Twitter (@nothingbutniall).


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